


To Profitable Unions

by Dacro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mental Coercion, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-18
Updated: 2005-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dacro/pseuds/Dacro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Harry agrees to a marriage of convenience for the greater good and a speedy end to the war, but his heart is far from convinced.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Profitable Unions

**Author's Note:**

> There's love here-- it's just not the healthy kind. This is not one of my fluffy fics, although there is quite a bit of black humour. Draco was a dream to write. He just scowled at me and practically wrote himself. Harry is a little meeker than he normally appears in my fics, but it made the dynamic what it needed to be, I'm thinking. Feedback is always welcome and adored. The rest of the fics from this project can be found behind the banner:

Title: To Profitable Unions  
Author: [](http://dacro.livejournal.com/profile)[**dacro**](http://dacro.livejournal.com/)  
Pairing: H/D (implied Harry/Oliver)  
challenge: [](http://the-eros-affair.livejournal.com/profile)[**the_eros_affair**](http://the-eros-affair.livejournal.com/)  
Summary: **Harry agrees to a marriage of convenience for the greater good and a speedy end to the war, but his heart is far from convinced.**  
Rating: R  
Warnings: kidnapping, coercion, swearing, mind games, sex, angst-- woah.  
Beta: [](http://saladbats.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://saladbats.livejournal.com/)**saladbats** *hugs*  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the HP characters. They belong to JKR and her small mob. I only get feedback and love, no money.

Notes: There's love here-- it's just not the healthy kind. This is not one of my fluffy fics, although there is quite a bit of black humour. Draco was a dream to write. He just scowled at me and practically wrote himself. Harry is a little meeker than he normally appears in my fics, but it made the dynamic what it needed to be, I'm thinking. Feedback is always welcome and adored. The rest of the fics from this project can be found behind the banner:

[ ](http://www.notquiteroyal.net/theaffair/)

Enjoy,  


To Profitable Unions

I'll never truly know who looked more out of place: My Father, dressed in his finest, attracting curious neighbours to their windows as he commanded the door of Number Four Privet Drive to 'open', or Potter, bane of the Dark Lord, wide eyed and drowning in the rags that hung off his thin frame as his brain slowly registered who we were. My question was answered and the prize won by a third party, or party of three as it were.

Muggles. Disgusting.

Two mammoths and a wilted flower, wearing matched expressions of repugnance, sputtered nonsense as Potter, wand in hand, slid in front of them. I laughed at his attempt to protect them when it was clear that they hated the very thought of him. My father warned him not to try anything heroic. After all, we weren't there for the Muggles.

My father addressed the one who was turning purple, "We came for the boy."

We left with a lighter purse, consent from his legal guardians, and our prize. Potter. It's almost a shame that that Dark Lord wasn't there to see how easy a capture it was, when the proper words and the right amount of gold were applied.

The snapping of his wand was regrettable, but necessary.

The body-bind was my pleasure.

~*~

When we arrived back at the Manor, he had no choice but to listen as I told him why we had liberated him from his happy home. His eyes stayed fixed on the floor as I summarised how the Death Eaters had split into two groups: the ones who still supported the Dark Lord, and the ones who wanted to survive, our group. He knew most of it anyway, but Mother wanted me to make sure he heard everything. He refused tea as I spoke of his role in our little play.

"You will still get to defeat the Dark Lord, maintaining your 'saviour' status, but a small sacrifice will have to be made, of course."

"You're going to kill me." He spoke as if he were commenting on the weather.

My father moved gracefully to sit beside me

"No, Mr Potter, we need you very much alive in order to orchestrate this plan. In fact, if you play your part well, we will all benefit."

He listened without interruption from that point on, not having to be told he was the perfectly placed pawn on our board.

"Now," Father continued. "My followers wish to be free of our Lord, but even if we were to succeed, we would still be hated fugitives in the eyes of the rest of the Wizarding world. Therefore, we wish to make a bargain with the Ministry that would ensure our freedom once we help their golden child destroy the Dark Lord and offer up the remaining _loyal_ Death Eaters."

I took up the conversation, enjoying the view of Potter's white knuckles as his fisted hands pulled on the fabric of his dirty trousers. "The problem is that the Ministry will never trust us, and we certainly do not trust them, but we both trust you, or more accurately, trust your Gryffindor nature. You care about loss of life and suffering innocents enough to not allow this war to drag on for decades." I sat back as confusion crept onto his face where the anger and hatred for me had been earlier.

"So, you will convince the 'side of light' that you have been secretly meeting with our group for months, and are convinced that a truce between us, for the greater good, would be the only and best course of action."

The anger was back again as he dropped his silence.

"Why would I do that, and what makes you think they'll even believe me?"

"Because we've been in love for a year, you have just accepted my proposal to bond, and you just can't hide the love and _trust_ you feel for me any longer."

Potter sputtered around his cursing as Father laughed and Mother frowned.

 

~*~

Mother said it was a show of respect to give Potter an hour to think over his decision. I gave him thirty-five minutes.

"If you agree to our union, the war ends, the innocent children will grow and the suffering will stop. You refuse, and who knows what will happen? I assure you that my father will take out his disappointment on those dearest to you," I moved my mouth close to his ear," starting with the Mudblood." I pulled back and took the seat opposite him. "So, what'll it be, Potter? Marry me?"

All the colour ran from his skin as he contemplated my words. I could tell he was seeing the big picture. How fortunate for him.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

Excellent.

~*~

The bonding was a simple affair, only four witnesses and the Headmaster in attendance. Naturally, my parents stood with me, appearing quite pleased. Potter's witnesses, however, Severus and Granger, looked as if they were doing the same Arithmancy calculations in their heads and had come up with different answers.

~*~

It was almost comical how he gasped and tried to cover himself as I removed his clothes with two simple words and a graceful wand movement. Pitiful. He looked more the role of reluctant slave than blushing bride, but I had half-expected the dramatics, so it really didn't come as a surprise. He lifted his head and finally met my gaze.

Fear? Modesty? I couldn't decide, but it was ridiculous, whatever he was showing me. Hardly the hero.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Potter, honestly. You look like a terrified unicorn." And he did. Wide, wet eyes, trembling limbs. "I hope you show more masking skills in front of the Dark Lord than what I'm seeing today."

"Just get it over with, Malfoy," he whispered to the floor, and lowered his chin to his chest once more.

"It's sex, Potter, intended to be _enjoyable_. Just picture whomever you'd like in your head while I take you, and perhaps we can move on from this disappointing scene."

His silence was starting to get on my nerves. My foot began tapping of its own volition.

"Fine, but no one's ever—I've never…"

"Not a bottom, then? Well, you sure as Salazar's dark heart aren't going to fuck me, Potter, so I'm afraid you're a bottom today." Even my father would have been proud of the blazing hate Potter tried to throw at me through his narrowed eyes.

"I've never had _any_ sex, Malfoy! Happy now?"

I backed up a step and fell gracelessly into a chair. I didn't know what to say to that, but my brain eventually gave me something to work with.

"Queer, though?"

He sighed dramatically, "Yes, but I've—I'm not explaining this to you." He walked sluggishly over to the bed and sat down, finally allowing his hands to drop away from the limp flesh he'd been hiding. He'd be beautiful, if it wasn't for the depressing air of surrender that seemed to surround the entire bed. As I watched him stare at the bedclothes, my mind was formulating a plan.

I'd make him enjoy this.

For him, that would be far worse than being forcefully taken, which I could have done, considering he was nowhere near his own wand.

"Come here, Harry," I purred. The shock evident on his face and in those shining eyes was worth a thousand Christmases. His name felt strange on my tongue, but it came out smooth, and got the reaction I was looking for. He slowly got to his feet and walked to my chair, keeping those eyes trained on mine. I had no idea what he was looking for. Sign of a trap, perhaps? Compassion? I didn't particularly care what he wanted at the moment. I was properly focused on _my_ needs, our contract, and what I would have to do to complete our bond as well as have a bit of fun with my virgin bride.

I silently took his hand, pulling him forward until he stood in-between my legs, his knees brushing the front edge of the chair. I removed my own clothes with the same spell I had used on him. His reaction was almost the same, that little gasp that immediately raised one of my eyebrows and placed a little smirk on my lips.

 _Deflower_.

I slid forward, using his hips for leverage. He was shaking under my touch, trying to watch me and retreat at the same time. I applied more pressure with my fingers, pressed my body to his and slowly lowered myself to my knees, smiling all the way down from the delicious sounds he was trying hard not to make.

I placed my mouth over his bellybutton and kissed it like I would a lover's mouth, pushing my tongue inside, making his skin wet and slick, then pulled back slightly, hovering for a moment before releasing my breath. He moaned beautifully, his awakening flesh twitched from the nearness of my mouth, but the rest of him was still like a statue, albeit a shivering statue.

I had my work cut out for me.

I pushed him back and got to my feet. I wanted to ask him what the fucking problem was. I knew it wasn't me. My other partners, not that there were as many as I led people believe, had always been more than willing to engage in my games. I thought about what always leapt to the front of my fantasies and decided to attempt a little show for Potter. If it didn't work, I was going to demand compensation anyway.

He tried to cover himself again, whispering a shaky "I'm sorry."

He got a nod for an answer before I spun him around and gave his shoulders a light push. He fell into the chair, wearing a look of surprise as he fell.

"Try to relax," I whispered to him before turning to the dwindling fire in the hearth. "Intumesco!" The fire rose in intensity, chasing the chill from the air and the gooseflesh from Potter's body. I summoned my wand and levitated two crystal goblets, charming them to follow me when I moved back to where he was seated. He took my offered hand after a moment's hesitation, and stood. "Mulled cider, whiskey, wine—something else?" I asked, following the question with the warmest smile I had in my arsenal.

"What?" He shook his head slightly, looking dazed.

"What's your fancy, Potter?"

His eyes focused on the goblets, "Oh, wine?"

"Excellent choice."

It might have been my hapless compliment, or a result of the fire's heat, but the skin around the base of his neck now had a rosy glow that hadn't been there before. I kept my eyes locked with his as I brought my hand across and tapped once on the rim of each glass, whispering my selection. Once filled, I floated one over to Potter and plucked the other from the air for myself. He had to ruin my brilliant seduction by suspiciously sniffing at the rich red liquid that appeared almost black in this light. I tried to ignore the insult and decided instead to lead by example. I raised my glass to eye level.

"To profitable unions." I drank deeply, more than I would have normally, but I was proving a point. "Go on then, it's hardly poison."

He drank, nearly finishing the contents, in what I assumed was a crude display of defiance, or bravery. It would have been the perfect time for a lecture on manners, or etiquette connected to the drinking of fine wines, but it was at that moment I noticed the dark droplet roll off of his stained lips and leave a rose-coloured trail down to his chin before he stopped it with quick fingers.

Oh, I had another very good plan forming in my head.

I whispered a different levitating spell, fine-tuning it to extract a bubble of wine from my glass. I followed it with my finger as it hovered over Potter's shoulder, and burst it when the position was perfect for staining the greatest amount of skin.

There was that gasp again, but I ignored it to taste the fine wine I had just wasted on Potter's unworthy skin. I gently pushed my wet finger inside his mouth, and felt his tongue reluctantly wrap around it.

This wasn't at all the worst moment of my life. In fact, Potter tasted almost acceptable under the dry grape bath, his collarbone a perfect place to drink from as I broke another bubble and watched the wine race down his chest and stomach. I removed my finger from his mouth and pointed at the goblet.

"Your turn, Harry." I curled my finger and the goblet floated closer. He almost refused. I saw it in his eyes, that last little spark of defiance. But then, something replaced it, something pitiful.

"Turn around," he said. As if he was in any position to be handing out orders.

"Oh no, I've seen your Muggle tactics, Potter. I'll stay where I can see you."

"I'm not going to hit…" he paused, holding the anger just beneath the surface. I could almost smell it. The thought of tying him down as he tried to fight me sent heat rushing south and inflated my ego enough to straighten my back as I glared back with cold eyes. He lowered his. "It's just easier to pretend you're someone else when I don't have to look at you. I'll turn around, you don't have to."

Fucking Potter!

I grabbed his arms. "This bond is ours until one of us dies, Harry!" I spat his name in his face and jabbed a finger into the hollow of his shoulder. "You can fight me and be miserable for the rest of your life, or you can play along, make this mutually enjoyable, and I'll see to it that you're comfortable here. I'll give you everything you desire."

"Except freedom, or the person I gave up for your _plan_."

"Our plan. You think I have everything I want out of this deal? Face it, we've both lost, so make the best of it, or I'll make you wish your first time was your last. I can make this good for you Potter, or I can rip you apart. Your choice." My hand shot out for emphasis and the two goblets hurled themselves into the mantle and shattered.

I hated losing my temper. I had perfected 'calm and seething' ages ago, but somehow Potter could always make me break the rules of proper behaviour whenever we were together. I was breathing like I had just finished a game of Quidditch, but he simply wandered back to the edge of the bed, sat down, and dropped his head into his hands.

I had a beautifully biting comment on the tip of my tongue, but swallowed it when his shoulders began to shake. The 'Terror of the Dark Lord' was crying. He was either having a pitiful breakdown, or was mourning the person he had just been speaking about.

Merlin! Why couldn't this just be about sex?

I knelt in front of him, "Who is he?" I asked quietly.

"As if I'd tell you," he mumbled into his hands.

"Depending on who it is, I might be able to make arrangements, after a reasonable amount of time of course, for him to visit you here." His shoulders stopped shaking. "This deal is important to my family, Potter, but I meant what I said. If you don't fight me, I'll do what I can for you. Despite popular belief, I'm not always the bastard people believe me to be. I protect what's mine, but I know what it feels like to be in love as well," I lied.

That did the trick. He raised his head and stared at me with something that looked like shock and wonder. I inwardly screamed my victory as I dried the skin under his eyes with my thumbs. Oh, he was so easy to play when he so foolishly showed me his weakness. His eyes were softening, and the tightness slowly faded from his features.

"Oliver Wood," he breathed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

I rose up slowly on my knees and pulled his face close to mine, "Good. I'll do what I can," I said with such tenderness, I almost believed myself.

When his lips closed over mine, I froze momentarily from the shock of what was happening, but not being one to pass up such a gift, I allowed him to continue until he paused to look at me.

"Thank you."

I had never seen that look on his face before. I don't even know how to put words to it, but it might have been gratitude, or perhaps hope. I didn't really care since it allowed me the opportunity to drop my hands to his knees, ease them open, and bring my body closer to his.

"You're welcome," I said, making sure I had his attention before I pushed my hands forward along the inside of his thighs. He released a moan that I felt as much as heard, as I nuzzled my face into the sparse patch of curls on his chest. "How far have you gone with him?" His body tensed at my words. I shrugged, "If I knew how he touched you, it might make it easier for you to pretend he's here."

I could almost taste my prize.

"You'd do that for me?"

I couldn't help the smirk that surfaced, "If it gets me inside you before the night is over, yes."

Then he laughed lightly, surprising me with the sound. It didn't last long, but I felt his reluctance slipping away as his muscles finally relaxed under my fingers and tongue. As I moved, he closed his eyes and laid himself back, blushing as his words directed me to where he wanted to be touched. When we had covered every type of petting and oral pleasure that Potter had been exposed to, I took over, enjoying being back in control, but was overly careful not to give away my secret.

He kept his eyes closed the entire time I prepared him, constantly whispering something under his breath, most likely his lover's name. I didn't care, there was plenty of time to make him forget that name, many more nights in this bed to teach him a new name to scream. Mine.

Yes.

The more I worked him with my fingers, watching his tight body squirm under mine, the more I warmed to the idea, even if it was Potter. If I could make him truly fall in love with me, my father would have no problem rising back up the ranks of society once the Dark Lord was out of the picture. What a beautiful gift to see Potter standing proudly at Father's side with me, of his own free will, convinced that I loved him back.

He cried out Wood's name as I entered him, but I lowered my mouth to his ear, even as he screamed with pleasure, "Oh yes, Harry. I promise to seduce you," I hissed as his exquisite heat clamped down around me for the first time. "I'm the first to claim you, and I keep what's mine." He was a slick mess of need by that point. I doubt if he even heard anything I said to him, but his body answered me, legs and arms wrapping around as his hips moved instinctively against mine.

I could still taste the wine on his skin as I sucked at the hollow between his neck and shoulder, rocking him while he moaned, every move he made, betraying his boyfriend.

"It's good, isn't it? You like this, don't you, my love?"

"Yes, don't stop!" he pleaded, wrapping his fingers around my bottom, as if he thought I would pull away. Even I wasn't controlled enough to remove myself from the overwhelming pleasure my body found in his. I dropped my head down on his shoulder and thought about his answer between waves of heat that covered us both.

I thought he would have hesitated, thought about what he was saying before he answered, but I could also tell that sexual ecstasy and a bed full of lies had clouded his mind with almost no effort at all. In fact, I was almost tempted to see what else I could get him to agree to in this state.

Instead, I took him in my hand and brought us both over the edge.

~*~

His head and legs fell heavily back onto the bed, but his shaking arms kept their grip. I smiled wearily against his chest. His muscles were still contracting gently, even as I softened. He wanted me to stay inside him.

Victory.

I looked up when his hands finally fell away and I felt the shudder of his shoulders again. His eyes were still closed, but tears ran from the corners and pooled beside the bridge of his nose. I rolled him to his side and wrapped my arms around him. I bit my lip to keep from smiling as he cried his guilt out against my chest, his tears ruining my sheets.

He was asleep before the tears stopped flowing.

~*~


End file.
